Rory's Choice
by j'ecrive.en.anglais
Summary: Post 'The God Complex'; the Doctor comes back and has a chat with his favourite centurion. What I think ought to happen.


**A/N: This is what you get when you spend a couple months writing Sherlock, and then try to go write some DW. I hope it isn't too horribly OOC. I ship Rory/Doctor, but I'm pretty sure that doesn't show here. I dunno if I'm gonna continue it. Enjoy, I hope.**

"You made our house blue, Doctor." Rory said.

"So I did."

Rory didn't look behind him. If he had, he would have seen the Doctor leaning against his TARDIS, regarding him thoughtfully.

"Were you trying to make sure we didn't forget you?"

The Doctor chuckled, softly. "I left the brakes off so you wouldn't hear me." he replied. "How did you know?"

"How did I know? That the least sane man in the universe was standing behind me? Give me some credit, Doctor."

"I wouldn't say _least_ sane. Maybe in the bottom three percent. There was this Bu'galoo I met once, tried to eat my shoes… of course, _she_ thought she was being polite…"

"How did you know I would be up here?"

"How did I know you would be sitting on your roof? I _do_ have a time machine, you know."

"That's not how you knew, though." Rory said. It wasn't a question.

"It's not, no."

Rory patted the ground beside him. The Doctor hesitated, for a second, but then he sat down.

"I could've been to any of those stars." Rory said, gazing at the sky. "When I was a kid, I used to look up at the sky, and wonder if I'd ever see a different sky than this one."

"So did I." the Doctor admitted. "Some people can't be satisfied with just the one. It's the same everywhere I've been, and I've been to quite a few places. It never really goes away."

"Not even after a thousand years." Rory agreed.

"Nine hundred and eleven, I'll thank you!"

"I wasn't talking about you."

There was a pause, in which the Doctor watched Rory, and Rory watched the stars.

"Do you remember now?" the Doctor asked, when it was clear Rory wasn't going to say anything unprompted.

"Bits and pieces. I accidentally invented buttons, did I tell you?"

The Doctor laughed aloud, and Rory smiled a little. It lightened the mood, if only just a bit.

"But I'm a different man now than I was, Doctor." Rory said. "I had a lot of time to think. I know what it's like to be alone. I know what it's like to make friends, all the while knowing that in a hundred years they're going to be dead, and I'm still going to be twenty seven. Even if I can't remember it all, it's still changed me."

"I never mean to do it, you know." the Doctor said, looking at his hands. "Rita was right, I have a god complex. I swan in, changing people's lives, and I never ask first! I never consider that they might not want them changed, that they might be happier if I just leave well enough alone! Every time and why don't I ever change? Am I that selfish, Rory? Do I not care what happens to my friends?"

"I did choose it, though." Rory said. "I spent years with Amy bossing me around, and I never really knew why except that I loved her stories about the Raggedy Doctor. And it turned out you were real, and there were monsters and aliens and the chance at another sky and yeah, I had a choice, but did I? Really? How could I have possibly chosen to stay behind? How could I have lived with myself? And then I could have just popped through to the future, but I had a chance to impress him, to make you think more of me than just Amy's pet. And I spent two thousand years thinking about her, and thinking about you, and becoming more like you, but is that such a bad thing?"

"We went to that one." the Doctor said abruptly, pointing at the sky. "That was the one with the Farsi. And that one there, that's Thorane Five. They had that hat shop, where I said you should get the pirate hat, and Amy wanted the scarf, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember. How could I forget? God, how could I forget any of the times we spent?"

"How is Amy getting on, anyways?"

Rory didn't answer right away. They both knew this was a loaded question.

"Amy is... fine. More than fine, actually. She's loving the normality. She goes out shopping with the girls, and she's trying to get a job, and everything's just like it was before. Sometimes it's hard to believe that three weeks ago we were running from a minotaur in a space-maze."

"Is it?"

"Hard to believe? I can't believe it's been that long, Doctor. Each morning I'm disoriented because I expect to be in our bunks. Preparing breakfast feels wrong, and it's never as exciting as eating whatever the TARDIS felt like feeding us. Every time I turn around, I'm reminded that I'm back on earth."

"And how are… things… with Amy?" the Doctor said awkwardly.

"She's happy as ever." Rory said, a little bitterly. "When you had to make her lose her faith in you… I don't know what it did to her, but she hardly talks about you anymore. Almost like she's embarrassed, or something."

"Embarrassed?" the Doctor asked.

"I don't know. But she believed in you so much, and for so long. And that's not all gone away, but it's lessened. And she doesn't know how to deal with it, so she's trying to forget all about it."

"But you're not."

"Well, no. But you've never been a god to me, Doctor. I've always known you were fallible. You almost always win, but sometimes you don't. Amy didn't really know that, not deep down. And now she does, and she's running away."

Rory sounded, not sad exactly, but there was a certain desperate resolution that belied the calmness of his speech. The Doctor paused, and then tentatively put his hand on Rory's shoulder. Rory tensed at the contact, but slowly relaxed.

"We were talking about choices. Do you remember the time with the Dreamlord?" Rory asked.

"I do. When Amy chose you."

"She did. She was offered a choice between the two of us, and she picked me."

"You're doing wonders for my ego."

"Doctor, I've never been given a direct choice, not in the way she was. But I've been making mine all along, I just didn't realize it until two weeks ago. And, well, I think we both know who I choose."

The Doctor paused, acknowledging Rory's words. He wasn't as surprised as he thought he would be. After all, he had known to come.

"You could live out your life here, Rory. Be Rory Pond, be happy."

Rory looked over at the Doctor for the first time since he had arrived. "I could do that, yeah. But I'd never forget, Doctor. I'd never stop remembering what I could have had."

"Would that be such a high price to pay? To have friends, be happy, be loved? Do you know what people would do to get what you want to give up? Do you know what I've seen people do, for just that?"

"You can't ask me to make the choice you wouldn't make for yourself, Doctor."

"Now, that's not necessarily-"

"Stop." Rory said forcefully, cutting him off. "If you're going to say what I think you're going to say, don't bother. Yes, you would love to have a normal life, I know you would. But what would you do after a hundred years, when all your friends are dead? Or after a thousand, sticking around on the same planet? Maybe you hate goodbyes, but at least you always know you can go back and see your friends every once in a while. I've lived out two thousand years on one planet, and a few months on whichever catches your fancy. I know which I would choose, given half a chance."

"Rory?"

"Oh, right. Maybe I should've mentioned it before." Rory said. He stuck out his hand as if to shake the Doctors, but stopped mid way there. Slowly, the fingers bent down until the gun concealed inside was fully exposed.

The Doctor stared at it, for once without a quip.

"You're still plastic?" he asked.

"Plastic as ever."

"But- River!"

"Yes."

"And you can't die?"

"Not easily, anyways."

"And River?"

"You've said that twice."

"It's worth mentioning again!"

"Forget about River!" Rory said, and the Doctor stopped cold at his tone. "I don't want to think about her, because thinking about her makes me wonder about Amy, and I don't want to. I want to leave, and then Amy can be perfect in my head, and I can remember her when I'm a bit lonely. I don't want to stay, and worry, and let the uncertainty ruin all my memories of her."

"So- what. You just want to leave her? Just go off with me, gallivanting across space?"

"I left a note, on the couch. She'll see it. Maybe she'll be a little sad at first, but she'll get over it."

"Get over it?" The Doctor said, springing to his feet. "She chose you! If nothing else! How do you expect her to get over that?"

"She didn't choose me, Doctor." Rory said, also getting to his feet. "She _didn't_ choose you. She chose normality, and home, and Earth, and safety. I was a symbol for that and not much more."

"And you expect me to just let you come with me?" the Doctor cried. "That's pretty presumptuous, don't you think? Why would I need a little earthling like you on my ship? Do you want to hear what happened to the last person who tried that?"

Rory raised a skeptical eyebrow. "You don't mean that. You're lonely too, Doctor. Maybe this whole business with Amy was so we could meet. You need someone to keep you honest, maybe even to keep you sane. So I'm not a wide eyed girl, like most of your companions have been. Won't that make it more of a challenge, then, to find something to impress me?"

"Oh, so that's what you think I am? A sad, old man, desperately trying to impress earthlings? You don't even have it in your tiny little heads to understand a fraction of what I show you!"

"Maybe I don't. But I can learn, Doctor, you know I can. And you would love teaching me everything you know. Please, Doctor. You can't just leave me here!"

"Then why didn't the TARDIS land me in your backyard? Why didn't she choose you?"

Rory swallowed. "I don't know. But… maybe it was because she knew that if it was me you met, then I would see you like Amy does. Maybe, this was the only way for us to see each other clearly, not as a god and a follower, but as two men. We could be friends, maybe even equals. Don't tell me that doesn't tempt you, at least a little."

The Doctor shut his eyes, and took a deep breath. "Rory… it's a hard life, in the TARDIS. You and Amy, what you saw… it was the good times. And I'm not saying it isn't like that. But there are bad times too, times when the whole universe depends on my choices, and I've chosen wrong. I've made mistakes, and paid the price for them."

"I know that, Doctor. I've had two thousand years to think it over. You could say I'm fairly sure this is the right choice, at least for me."

"Rory…"

"Please, Doctor."

The Doctor fidgeted a little, but eventually he nodded. "Fine. But Rory… you can always change your mind. Don't forget."

"I won't."

"Good. Fine. Exploring the universe, the timelord and the centurion. We'll make it work, I'm good at that. Let's be off, then! No time to waste! Well yes, actually, all the time in the universe, but we can practice wasting time later!"

The Doctor grabbed Rory's wrist, and dragged him over to the TARDIS.

"Doctor!" Rory said, before the Doctor could get them through the doors. "Wait?"

The Doctor frowned. "What is it, Williams? Not changing your mind already?"

"No! It's just… where are we going, first?"

The Doctor smiled. "Oh, good question, very good question. I think we'll go… there!"

He pointed up at the sky, and Rory followed his gaze. "There?" Rory asked, pointing.

"They have wonderful costume shops. If you're travelling with me, you're going to have to look a little more dapper."

"Dapper? I like this shirt!"

"What's there to like?"

"Doctor!"

"We can discuss it on the way."

The Doctor dashed into the TARDIS, and Rory followed. "Come on, then!" he called, already standing at the console. "You're going to have to help me fly her! Gotta pull your own weight!"

Rory took the stairs three at a time.

"Take the blue lever there, that's it. And hit the button- the other button! Here we go!"

They grinned at each other across the console, until a particularly violent jolt sent Rory flying onto the railing.

Outside, the TARDIS slowly faded from view, leaving only Rory's chair sitting lonely on the roof of a little house in Leadsworth.


End file.
